Bungee
by hwshipper
Summary: Wilson does a bungee jump.


**Title:** Bungee  
**Author:** hwshipper  
**Beta:** Multiple thanks to srsly_yes, especially for the Americanisation  
**Disclaimer:** All House MD characters belong to Heel and Toe Films, Shore Z Productions and Bad Hat Harry Productions in association with Universal Media Studios.  
**A/N:** Set post-canon, after 8.22 _Everybody Dies._

**Summary:** Wilson does a bungee jump.

**Excerpt: **Wilson hadn't intended to come to Puxey, but now that they were here a bungee jump just seemed inevitable.

**Bungee**

The good news was that somehow, despite a complete lack of treatment, Wilson had made it to five months without that tumor killing him.

The bad news was that he seemed intent on killing himself anyway.

"Bungee jumping decreases immune function," House warned. "Possibility of eyesight damage, whiplash, and carotid artery dissection."

"We can't come to Puxey, the 'adventure capital of the Northwest' and not do something adventurous." Wilson was quoting from the leaflet he was squinting at. "Would you prefer I went tandem skydiving?"

"No." House grimaced. "Risk of neurological damage, hypertension, heart attack-"

"There you go then." Wilson closed the leaflet. "Bungee jump it is."

"You do realize it's five months _to the day_ you had that CT scan," House said desperately.

"I do, and what are you trying to say, House?" Wilson's tone was innocent. "I'm still alive, and the thymoma's just progressing more slowly than we thought it would, that's all."

_Then why the fuck tempt fate like this,_ House nearly spat, but his rational side refused to let him. Instead he grumbled, "It's certain death if the cord breaks or the harness comes off."

"I'm sure the odds of that are low," Wilson said easily.

* * *

Wilson hadn't intended to come to Puxey, but now that they were here a bungee jump just seemed inevitable.

For as long as he could remember, Wilson had been plagued by requests for sponsorship. Patients and their family members were always undertaking sponsored walks, runs, swims, spelling bees, hot-dog eating... There wasn't anything out there too boring or outlandish for someone to try and do it to raise money for a cancer charity. And there were so many cancer charities; national, local, for medical research, for palliative care-all fundraising, all the time.

Early in his career it had been pieces of paper clutched in sweaty palms, p_lease Doctor Wilson I'm going to walk five miles for leukaemia research, you know I've never been able to walk that far but I know I can do it if I try. Can you sponsor me, a dollar a mile perhaps... _More recently it had been links in mass emails, Facebook posts, Tweets; _I'm running the New York marathon, I'm gonna break four hours, wear a deep sea divers' outfit, flip a pancake all the way..._

He could never say no (although he knew cancer colleagues who did, as a matter of course), but he learned early on to keep the amounts small. Despite good intentions though, one thing he never quite got around to was any outlandish fundraising activities of his own.

Although he had fully intended to do a bungee jump, and that had preyed on his mind ever since.

"It was when I was at college," he explained to House as they arrived at the bridge. "A cancer charity brought a crane into town, stuck it in a parking lot for a week, and people got sponsored to jump off the top. I was gonna do it, I really was, but somehow I didn't get round to it in time. I always regretted missing out."

"And now you're doing it without a sponsor in sight, paying good hard cash of your own," House said in an incredulous tone, as Wilson shelled out notes to a guy operating out of the trunk of an SUV.

"Should I get the photo package?" Wilson asked. An enterprising man with a camera and a video camera apparently enjoyed a perch just below the jump site. Various options pinned up on a board included a set of three glossy six by fours, showing participants glassy-eyed and terrified beforehand, frozen mid-jump, and glowing and exhilarated afterwards. "I'll want some record that I did it."

"Lest we forget?" House asked drily.

Wilson bought the photo package, but opted out of the DVD. Photos could be looked at anytime, it seemed a bit silly to carry a DVD around on the road.

House continued to grumble, and Wilson largely tuned his commentary out. A few pithy remarks invaded his consciousness as he went through various formalities which included being carefully weighed and having his weight written on his hand ("That's what they rely on?") He also had to sign a waiver absolving the bungee company of any responsibility for death or injury ("Oh, great. In event of your early death I can't even claim compensation.")

And then suddenly they were at the viewing area by the side of the river, and he had to go on and leave House behind.

_"Ki o tsukete," _were House's last words.

Wilson knew that one; _Take care._

"Au revoir," Wilson replied smoothly, and he tramped onto the bridge and up to the bungee platform.

It was a shock to suddenly be the center of attention of three strapping men, all bustling and busy with straps and ropes.

"G'day!" they greeted him in a chorus. They were all Australian, with accents identical to Chase.

"Hey," Wilson said weakly. "Uh, actually I'm not sure if I want to do this-"

They ignored this, and instead led him to the edge of the platform to show him the view and pose for the camera. Wilson recoiled at the sight of the river hundreds of feet below, and forgot to smile. They then got him to step into the harness, which was duly tightened and checked.

A large clip on the harness was pointed out to him, and it was explained that after the jump they would lower another line to bring him up, and he would have to fasten this to the clip. Wilson listened without hearing.

"Now," one of the Aussies said, guiding Wilson back from the platform edge, as far as he could go. "I'm going to count down from three, you get a running start and by the time I get to one, you'll have jumped. Okay?"

"Uh-"

"Three! Two!"

The countdown suddenly made his adrenalin roar. As the young man yelled "One!-" Wilson screwed up courage and his legs moved forward. He ran several paces, right off the edge of the platform and into space.

There was a brief Wile E Coyote moment of frozen running, when Wilson felt his body pause mid-air, and the thought that sprung into his mind was _Fuck, I must look so undignified!_

And then he fell, and after a second or two of weightlessness, the bungee rope kicked in, and he bounced. He bounced, and he bounced, and then he had the best view in Puxey; suspended above a beautiful river and forest below, mountain range all around.

He grabbed the bungee rope above his head and held on, completely irrationally, as the harness held him fast; but it seemed important to do so. Feeling safe now, he stared, riveted, until a shout from above distracted him. He looked up, to see faces above and another rope dropping down toward him.

He struggled a bit to clip the rope onto the harness, having forgotten all the instructions, but eventually it was done and he was winched back up.

House was waiting in the viewing area, gray-faced and white-knuckled, when Wilson wobbled back.

"You're an idiot," he said. Wilson could only grin feebly.

"That's probably enough extreme sports for me," Wilson found himself saying as they left.

House grunted. "First sensible thing you've said all day."

When he went to pick up the photos, Wilson found House had bought him the DVD too.

END


End file.
